Orphan
by VarrosGirly
Summary: Since Derek scratched him, Jackson's noticed he's been watched. Things take a turn for the strange once the mysterious werewolf gives him news that will define the rest of his life.
1. Scratching the Surface

**Title:** Orphan  
><strong>Type:<strong> PreSlash, Angst, FriendShip, Snark  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Teen Wolf [TV Series]  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore  
><strong>Setting:<strong> Sometime after Season 1 Episode 6 "Heart Monitor"  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 4047  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Jackson is in a panic on his way home from school, since all day he's been haunted by flashes of Derek, who he believes has taken to stalking him after leaving those scratches at the back of his neck. After rushing home, afraid for his safety, Jackson learns that the very person he's been trying to run from is now firmly planted in on dark corner of his room. Pity he locked all the doors and windows after all then, isn't it? He quickly learns that Derek is not there to hurt him, but what he is there to do might be a little worse. Jackson is becoming a wolf, and Derek his Alpha. The beginning of an interesting relationship.

**Warnings:** This chapter in the series is rated PG-13 for use of swearing and underlying homoerotic development, as well as mild occurrences of violence. Spoilerish to those who have not seen up to Season 1 Episode 6 "Heart Monitor", and possibly episodes following that. First attempt at a Teen Wolf fic, so be gentle. Due to the show being so young, we have taken liberties and made up/twisted some of the show's own lore, for the sake of this pairing/fic. This is a co-write so please excuse any shifts in perspective change you encounter. Jackson is written by me, Varrosgirly and Derek by Jaxon666. Comments always welcome so long as you don't have a stick up your ass. Thanks!

* * *

><p>Jackson's tires squealed as he tore out of the parking lot, having just seen that Derek guy at the corner of his eye for about the hundredth time today. And just like every other time, he was gone when he looked again. Something was up, but he didn't know why he had to endure the wrath of some whacked-up drug dealer. McCall had ratted on him, for some insignificant thing, hadn't he? That little shit was going to get it.<p>

He was staring into his rear view mirror, making sure he wasn't being followed, barely swerving out of the way of crossing traffic. Jackson had never run a red light before. At least not accidentally, like this. He had to pull himself together. With another quick glance to his mirror, he made a sharp left turn, taking a long way to his house, through unmarked back roads.

Once he arrived, he parked his car in the back, out of the view of the road, and rushed inside, quickly shutting and locking every door that led outside. Jackson avoided the windows as much as he could on the way to his room, shutting the door loudly as he got inside, leaning against it for a moment and just listening. Nothing. He laughed in relief, throwing his keys onto his bed before he saw his dishevelled room. Jackson froze, eyes swivelling to the corner, where Derek was sitting.

"Shit...shit, I didn't do anything! What do you want?" Jackson took a step back, hands up in defence. Whatever this guy had been following him for, it could be explained, or paid, away.

"Relax." Derek sounded more bothered by Jackson's nervous response to his presence than any other crime he might have thought the overbearing jock had committed, lazy eyes delayed in their witness to the owner of the bedroom.

He tossed the journal he'd been flicking through on to the bed flippantly, no care that it was an admission to Jackson that he'd been reading it, nor how that made him feel.

"I just came to talk." Derek's eyes then wandered to where Jackson's were drawn to; his open drawers, the open pages of his journal, various items of clothing on the floor that had evidently been handled for some reason.

Still sounding completely bored of the necessity for having to talk like this, Derek rolled his eyes back over to Jackson and offered a brief, characterless explanation.

"I got bored." His face remained as moody as always, with no new expression to comfort its onlooker.

It was a welcome relief that Derek was staying put, but he was still there in the room, which wasn't great. Jackson was very annoyed that the guy, currently guilty of breaking and entering, had gone through his stuff at all, let alone his more personal items, like the journal, tossed like it was an uninteresting paperback bought on sale.

"To talk? Fine, I...talk about what?" What had Derek been doing, going through his clothes? Jackson wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

"Look, if it's because I know about your arrangement with McCall, I can forget that. Don't know a thing. Okay?" Jackson's hand was holding the cell phone in his jeans pocket, just in case.

"We...good then?" He winced in anticipation, glancing at the bedroom door. Which he had locked upon arriving. Damn.

"I don't think you get it. You need me to talk to you." it was time to play ball, and Derek did just that, with an undertone of aggression in his deep, dryly chorded voice.

"You think I want to be here?" it certainly didn't look that way. From only the edge of his eye's blind spot Derek could see clearly the adolescent's coming attempts to escape this situation. The human fight or flight response sent a thick and desperate aroma through the air, sweet almost, like the too-warm juice of a tangerine, bland in it's tang and more importantly unsavoury. Derek smirked before another delayed look was given to the boy.

"Don't even think about it. Cell phone, now." he held his hand out, with a tangible and predatory promise in his gaze that it would be very dangerous for Jackson not to fulfill his request.

"Don't bother running. I'm faster. Stronger. And don't try to bullshit me because I know your parents won't be home for hours yet. It's Wednesday. I've done my homework." Derek grinned like a madman at that last line, the expression not seeming to fit his features, looking alien to them almost.

"Listen, I'm not going to hurt you unless you make me. And I'm not a drug dealer. Now sit down and chill the fuck out. Thanks." he thanked Jackson for doing something before he'd even agreed to do it. Derek was that cocky. Obnoxious even. But still sort of cool somehow, in a dangerous, mysterious and potentially psycho killer with a dead look in his eye kind of way.

Unfortunately, handing over his cell phone meant getting closer to Derek. Both of which he really did not care to do, and both he had to. Jackson hesitated before pulling the phone from his pocket and stepping closer, placing it in Derek's outstretched hand. He stepped back and sat on the end of his bed, watching Derek. The jock was starting to feel better about things, though the word 'better' was relative.

"Okay, I believe you...sort of. Why do I…need you to talk to me?" His gaze swept the room again. Derek had claimed boredom for the mess, but Jackson didn't really think that was an excuse. When you were bored, you didn't go through someone's clothes.

"Why...why do you know so much about me?" He didn't dare ask how long Derek had been following him, not yet.

"God. Seriously, calm down. You stink." of course, Jackson did not smell bad in general, at least as far as other people would have been concerned. In fact his hygiene was impeccable, much like his choice of deodorant, aftershave and grooming regiment. But fear to a werewolf as evolved as Derek smelt like a bitch. A dank, salty, overcooked bitch left to rot in the trunk of a car that had subsided in some backwater swamp somewhere. It wasn't pleasing.

"And don't be so shifty. Gives me a headache." Evidently, Derek was now done telling Jackson what not to do and why, in terms of it's effect on him. For now.

For once Jackson has asked the right question.

"I did something to you. Thing on the back of your neck. The open wounds. Didn't mean to but...now I have. That means things are gonna be a lot different for you. Soon. Sooner if you want them to. And you should, if you want to protect yourself." so that was all he was saying for now. At least it was intriguing, but then again that hardly mattered when the listener had enough reason now to be freaking the fuck out a little. More than a little maybe.

Jackson gave him a funny look, wondering how he could stink. Maybe he'd worked up a sweat in his nerves and hadn't realized it. But he took a few easy breaths anyway. Derek wasn't attacking him or anything, and apparently he wasn't a drug dealer. Which left Jackson with very few options as to why the remaining Hale son was here. He removed his jacket, laying it beside him and letting his hands fall between his knees as he listened. Jackson instinctively felt the wounds on his neck as they were mentioned, frowning. This conversation was going somewhere he was sure he wasn't going to like.

"Yeah, your nails...I don't know how those did this..." Jackson stared with wide eyes suddenly, mouth open in unspoken accusation for a moment.

"Did you...give me AIDS or something? I've felt like shit the past couple days..." Now he was really unhappy. Something that he couldn't control, and now he could die? "Protect myself, yeah right. A little late for that, isn't it? What did you give me?"

Derek growled at being accused of transmitting AIDS, and too the fact that Jackson had somehow found the balls to do so. He wasn't the bigger animal here. Derek looked at him like a dinner that had pissed him off.

"I know." he said, of Jackson's recent illness "It's the infection spreading slowly. It happens that way when you've just been scratched. Better if you get bitten." Derek didn't realise that he wasn't doing anything to ease Jackson's worries, but then he really didn't care a fuck about his feelings. Call him apathetic, if you want your dick bitten off.

"You don't have fucking AIDS, asswipe. You're becoming one of us." he said that like Jackson was meant to know what he had meant by "us" already. In fairness, he should have had some idea.

"Bitten?" Jackson felt like Derek was poised to attack, with the way he looked now. But the guy was also starting to spout nonsense, and he was right; his parents wouldn't be home for hours, likely longer if they went out again. Maybe Derek was counting on that.

"I'm not following...and I'm not sure I want to." One of us? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Some weird cult thing? Whatever it was, it had to be something that Scott was involved with. The little prick had been another average nobody until Derek showed up in town again.

"You scratched me, and it's making me sick so I can join some club? And now I should want to get bitten instead?" He almost told Derek to just do it, if it would make him feel any better. "Just...tell me what this is. And how to make it stop."

"Pipe down you little fuck." Derek said, his beastial canines manifesting for a few moments before he returned to a more relax state, his strident voice overlaid with a second, less human tone that told a promise of uncertain rage.

* * *

><p>This Jackson kid really ought to learn his place. Derek was no drug dealer, but short of being a werewolf who could rip through his guts in a split second with one swipe, he was also a bad ass who could seriously fuck him up.<p>

"First of all, pay attention. That's not what I said, and I don't like wasting my breath." Derek certainly had more attitude than Jackson, a masculine, vitriolic one at that, though Jackson seemed hot on his tails for it at times.

"I'm a werewolf you annoying little shit. Guess what that makes you." and because Jackson had irritated him, Derek grinned fiercely at that revelation, knowing that pretty soon, this new information was going to fuck with both his life and his head.

Jackson had a moment of panic, unlike the ones before. Whatever Derek had just done was terrifying, as well as physically impossible. But it had happened. And it wouldn't be the only thing that occurred tonight that seemed impossible, as Derek so kindly began to point out to him.

"Werewolf..." Jackson couldn't make a coherent statement from that at first, so he just stared. As far as he was concerned, werewolves only existed in bad, b-list Hollywood movies, not in his bedroom. And he certainly couldn't be one.

"But...why would you wait so long to tell me? You were...in my locker room. Just a couple days ago." Jackson felt a little ill, and he may have looked it, too. "Say I believe you. How long is it gonna take before I'm done with-" he gestured vaguely "-this?"

"I thought you'd take it better than Scott did. Some jock you are." Derek flippantly assaulted Jackson's character with so easily thrown away comments. It was like he had no ordinary human moral set to wrestle with, how effortlessly he parted with harsh, mean words. He lacked sympathy for their receiver; it made his words even more genuine in intent that way, not that it was strategic.

"I was busy." he stated his main reason for not coming to Jackson with this sooner "And there was a chance you might have died. You didn't. Good for you." he sounded so cynical and cunty, yet he looked so pleased he could have burst for it.

"You're already healing." he answered Jackson's question "And by the next full moon, you'll be turned. Unless you want it sooner. I can make that happen. Frankly, with your attitude, I'm pretty sure I'd rather let some other wolf rip you a new one. Literally. If I don't do it first." Derek grunted, turning away from Jackson and placing the removed battery of his cell phone on one of his bedroom units. He didn't even grace the boy with a single gaze now.

"You're probably not cut out for it anyway. You don't listen. You're scared as a bitch. How am I meant to train you? Even if I am your Alpha. No. Maybe I'll just stick with Scott after all."

"It's a little different being told you're turning into a werewolf than...getting a bad grade on a test." Jackson spoke with a bit of an edge to his voice. Couldn't Derek get that this wasn't something you didn't exactly get prepared for in life? But he was curious now, and wanted to know a couple more things. Derek was getting mean now, and very unnecessarily.

"McCall? Better than me?" He scoffed, audibly, crossing his arms and feeling angry, the fear he held for Derek dissolving.

"How the hell was I not supposed to be scared of you? You attacked me at my school, showed up when I was practically naked, stalk me without telling me what's going on..." Jackson stood, now annoyed that Derek didn't even look at him.

"McCall is a little bitch, I know that for a fact. He just got a lucky break. When we're on even ground, I'm fifty times his worth in anything. I can handle this better than he ever could. He got bit didn't he? Easy way through it?" Jackson felt his anger growing, claw marks pulsing like a branding iron had just pressed them on.

"I told you to pipe down!" Derek's voice was thick with inhuman tone again, and louder this time as he shot up from his seat, an excess of bulk bloating his muscles, fangs formed even further than before, shoving Jackson upwardly into the wall behind him. Quite some distance too, at least a few meters. Butt-hurt or not, Jackson would get over it. He could heal now. Derek shut his eyes and breathed away the wolf within, with deep and determined breaths. If he didn't, this could get ugly.

He was typically aggressive anyway and didn't like to be challenged, that was part of being a natural born werewolf. But this anger, maybe it came from the connection between Alpha and pack wolf; a natural disposition to insubordination. Whatever anyway, Jackson was a little shit and Derek had proved his point; don't fuck with him. Now that he'd shrunk back down to his general 'human' size, Derek opened his eyes, skin still hot with annoyance, and closed them in on Jackson who now remained unkempt on the floor, a few broken things surrounding him.

"Watch the 'tude around me. I'm not your daddy, or some school kid that somehow thinks you're the shit." he said, pulling his eyes off Jackson in a further attempt to cool down a little. He walked over to the boy, offering him a hand up, still looking pissed off, but at least he was extending some sort of olive branch.

"You want to learn how to control this, then you better man up. Otherwise in a few weeks, you're gonna be dead or worse."

Jackson groaned, holding his ribs, nearly seeing red. He didn't like being told anyone could surpass him, especially when the thing of measure was one that he hadn't been given a chance to compete in. A framed photo had fallen next to him, the glass shattering. There was a dent in the wall where he'd hit.

"Fine," he said through clenched teeth, feeling his anger slowly fade as Derek just stood there. It had built up really fast, and he hadn't been able to stop himself. That was new, since he was usually pretty calm under pressure. Jackson accepted the help up, no pain shooting through him now.

"I can learn. That...I don't know what happened just now. But I felt something, and I didn't want it to stop." He had, though; something in him submitted when Derek had thrown the jock like a paper doll.

"I have to deal with just being scratched?" Jackson cracked his neck with a grunt. It set his spine back in place, which had gotten a little out of order from hitting the wall. "This is something I can't control now. I want to learn how, and I know I can learn fast." Jackson had no choice, really. It was adapt or die now.

Derek got closer to Jackson and turned to stand behind him, Jackson following the motion so that they remained facing one another. It was like something in them responded to the other without human means of communication; an animal dance. Derek playfully pushed Jackson on to the bed, and smirked when the boy gathered himself and looked at what might have been a further threat from the older man.

He could go on to smirk himself; ironically it had been the first friendly thing Derek had freely done to him to date. Part of Jackson knew it, but not a part he knew how to speak with fluently just yet.

"Like I said, there are ways I can speed it up, make you one of us faster. Scratching won't be much help now. Biting...that works. But being close to me...that's the real kicker. You wanna hang out with a drug dealer with anger management problems, who's been accused and locked up for murdering his own sister?" he smirked again, with playful warmth.

Something about their interaction was now very different. It was almost like Jackson was getting a feel for Derek, understanding him in a way. Which didn't make sense, though his instincts took over for him. His nostrils flared, and he realized he was taking in a scent. Well that was new. Even as Derek shoved him, Jackson knew it wasn't like before. His entire body was at ease, and he was soon on the verge of actually laughing. He settled for a light, amused smirk instead.

"Sure...I mean, you made me a werewolf-" he shook himself for actually, seriously referring to himself as such, though it was completely true "-might as well, right?" Jackson leaned up on his elbows, looking Derek over. Even the older man's stance was changed, somehow, but not visually. He didn't get it.

"I'm going to have to anyway, since I would never trust McCall's judgment on something like this." As for speeding it up...well, Jackson didn't want to feel like shit for almost another month. "I think I can handle getting bit, too, then. It's worth getting the end result faster, right?"

"Here." Derek went forward to join Jackson on the bed, taking to it from a comfortable strut and kneeling up at Jackson's side, the younger boy still on his back "I'll show you something. How it works." He grabbed Jackson's nearest hand and held it firmly over his own chest. He immediately realized that this was not the most efficient way to demonstrate what he was about to, rolling his eyes at his own first action and then slipping Jackson's hand under his t-shirt before once again placing it over the center of his chest. Skin to skin was much better for this. He took in a breath and let Jackson's hand respond to his heartbeat.

"Feel your own pulse." he told him, before smirking "See how it's matching mine?" it was a neat trick, but then Derek liked being a werewolf; he always had been. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having a cub to train. It was sort of like having family again, wasn't it. He let go of Jackson's hand after he'd shown him what he'd intended to.

Jackson looked confused for a moment, looking from where his hand rested, to Derek's face. The first thing he noticed was how warm the older werewolf was compared to him. He was radiating heat. At the instruction, Jackson stared blankly, realizing he could not only feel the heartbeat under his palm, but hear it. His own pattered to match the rhythm, syncing up completely with it, beat for beat.

"Woah...that's actually really cool." Jackson actually smiled, resting his arm across his stomach once Derek released it. "It's...like we're connected…'cause you made me or whatever. My heartbeat recognizes yours...it like…knows who you are." He knew who Derek was, of course, but he sort of felt who the older man was now. It was different, and he didn't know how to explain it.

"You're blood now, aren't you? Even if I had completely flipped my shit over this...that wouldn't change." Jackson was sort of comforted by that, but he didn't let it show for very long. He hadn't known anyone directly related to him, and this could very well be the closest he'd ever get. "This control thing...can I learn how, before I'm done...turning?"

"Not blood. But...family. Sort of." Derek softened for just a moment, quickly asserting himself in traditional mood again soon after "Doesn't mean you're beyond getting your ass kicked if you step out of line." He held a very serious stare, which sort of ended with the tiniest etching of a playful smirk.

"People know you. People like you. You're already athletic. If you work at it, you could make a good wolf." maybe a great one but Derek didn't believe in feeding treats to dogs who hadn't earned them yet.

"Still, McCall was a nobody before he got turned and even he has to watch his back. You have to watch yours a whole lot more. Any free time you got, you should be spending it with me. No girlfriends, no jerking around with your lacrosse dipshits. Maybe we can have you figure out how to get a handle on it before you start transforming. No books on it but I guess you're in good hands. I was born this way. Make a Gaga joke and you're toast." and that time he really wasn't joking, preparing his fist mentally for a good right hook to Jackson's jaw if he dared.

"I can handle that," Jackson shrugged. Hell, Lydia had been annoying him more and more lately, as it was.

"I spend most of my free time training or studying anyway. Just a different kind of training now I guess." He'd have to explain things to Danny, maybe, but not fully. They were close, but nobody was going to get this. Except for McCall, and Jackson couldn't exactly picture himself buddying up with the little bastard.

"Gaga? Hate her," he snorted, though Lydia loved putting on the radio station that seemed dedicated to the mannish freak of a singer.

"You were though? Born…what you are?" That interested Jackson, that there was a difference in passing it down. Maybe that's part of what made Derek so formidable. He was naturally wild or something.

"How young were you when it…first…happened?" Jackson wanted to learn how to handle his new problem quickly, get to normal. There was no way he'd be as suspicious or shady about it. He was good at everything he put his mind to, no matter how many gruelling regiments he put himself through to get there.

"Enough questions." Derek said, getting up from the bed as if uncomfortable with how easily close he was cozying up to his new, accidentally made pack wolf, as pleasant as it all seemed to be.

"I put my number in the back of your journal. Call me. Tomorrow. I'll see you after school, my place." Derek insisted coldly, walking out before even allowing Jackson a real chance to answer. Perhaps for a little while, things were not going to be so easy, at least not for Jackson anyway.

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><p><strong>THE END<strong>


	2. Working It Out

**Title:** Orphan  
><strong>Type:<strong> PreSlash, Angst, FriendShip, Snark  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Teen Wolf [MTV Series]  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore  
><strong>Setting:<strong> Sometime after Season 1 Episode 6 "Heart Monitor"  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 5277  
><strong>Summary:<strong> An anxious and excited Jackson turns up at Derek's worn down house, unsure what to expect except Derek's mean eyes and nasty words, and well…some sort of training, and the rest of his day spent in what looked like a set from a low budget slasher flick. What neither of them knew was that things would end with some male bonding; or would it be better described as werewolf bonding? Maybe both. Either way, thing's are getting hot and wet. Still, there's just enough room in Derek's bathtub.

**Warnings:** This chapter in the series is rated PG-13 for use of swearing and underlying homoerotic development, as well as mild occurrences of violence. Spoilerish to those who have not seen up to Season 1 Episode 6 "Heart Monitor", and possibly episodes following that. First attempt at a Teen Wolf fic, so be gentle. Due to the show being so young, we have taken liberties and made up/twisted some of the show's own lore, for the sake of this pairing/fic. This is a co-write so please excuse any shifts in perspective change you encounter. Jackson is written by me, VarrosGirly and Derek by Jaxon666. Comments always welcome so long as you don't have a stick up your ass. Thanks!

* * *

><p>Jackson had given some half-assed excuse to Lydia as to why he couldn't drive her home today, and why he wasn't going to take part in gooey-tragic-chick-flick night. He'd never liked them anyway, so any reason to get out of it was more than he needed. His cell phone was on the passenger seat, having most recently sent a text to Derek's number, alerting him to the arrival.<p>

Jackson checked his rear view mirror a few times, to see if anyone he knew was following, or going along a similar path. He didn't want to be seen, to have questions floating around. McCall could have his own reputation smeared by rumours, but Jackson wouldn't stand for it. Finally he arrived to the half-burned house, glad that it couldn't be seen from the road.

Now that he knew things, he wasn't as scared of Derek. The fear hadn't completely washed away, but it was significantly less. He put the keys in his pocket, jogging up the stairs to the already open front door. It made him a little wary, but maybe Derek was just letting him know he could come in. Jackson hesitated outside for a moment before deciding there wasn't a threat.

"Derek?" he called out as he crossed the threshold. "Where are you?"

As if he just appeared there out of thin air, Derek spoke from behind Jackson, who would realise that Derek was closer to him than most humans got to one another casually. He just stood there, having not made a sound however he had come so near to Jackson in an impossible instant, like a brick wall of indifference. At least he was in a typical mood today then. But he was shirtless. Barefoot too.

"You're late." Derek said without blinking, monotonously, eyes pensive and unimpressed, walking past Jackson as if he was barely there at all. Jackson was only minutes late, but every second counted. Derek mused to himself at how Jackson wouldn't like being one second late of dodging a silver bullet, uneven toothy grin facing away from the young jock.

"Come on." he murmured, walking through the hall and into another area that looked like the torn and tarnished remains of what used to be a living room. It was like something out of a horror film about an abandoned ghost town or something. It must have been where Derek trained when he did so indoors, because he'd created plenty of space, the floor empty and any items of furnishing pushed up near to the walls.

"I take it you brought stuff." he hoped, motionless eyes staring dimly at Jackson who didn't seem to understand his meaning "To train in." he was already getting moody.

Jackson jumped, turning halfway to find Derek directly behind him, quiet and solid. It beat the hell out of threatening and attacking, though.

"Are you kidding?" Jackson was pretty damn close to being on time, and it wasn't like he could disappear straight after school, people expected him to do social things. He followed Derek through the wreck of a home, eyes straight ahead where others would be curiously peering about, or at least looking for other possible threats.

"Stuff?" His eyebrows crinkled together before smoothing in understanding. "Oh...I did actually. Didn't mean to." Jackson pulled the keys from his pocket, gesturing behind him. "My gym bag's in my car...I usually keep it in there when I have practice." Coach had gone easy on them this week, though, luckily enough for him.

"What kind of training are we doing?" Derek seemed to be getting angry with him, putting Jackson on a slight edge, but the jock would deal with it. Right?

"First lesson. Come prepared. Meaning: don't keep me waiting. You got a bag; bring it with you when you come to the door." Derek was very impatient it seemed, and he looked like he was about to smack someone or throw something at them. Maybe that was part of a natural werewolf's nature though, and in terms of behaviour, it helped them to discipline lower ranking pack mates and gain their respect. He turned to Jackson, built arms at his side, looking through him while he laughed at his question. He thought this was going to be easy. Bad dog.

"Kinds. Not kind. You've got a lot to learn and not much time to do it. Shirt off," he demanded, though Jackson seemed hesitant to follow, looking around in jumbled thought, confidence in his face washed out and replaced by unsteadiness.

"We get hot. Why do you think I train like this, for your benefit? Shirt off." Derek was a tough customer, but there was a chance he had his reasons.

It was already like an intense physical training, and they hadn't gotten to the actual training part yet. Or so Jackson thought. And now it looked as though he wasn't even going to get the chance to grab his workout clothes. Training in jeans, it didn't sit very well with the jock. He pulled off his jacket, the keys back in it's pocket, and threw it to a nearby chair.

"Just asking," he frowned, though the dynamic in the room was very clear. Whatever Derek had in mind for him, it wasn't baby steps into being a werewolf. Jackson could get that, even if the methods turned out to be too intense for him. He hoped they weren't, especially since he was only infected still, and sometimes in rough pain.

"Ok, ok, shirt off." Following Derek's orders was the only assured way to survive now, at least according to the darker man. Jackson believed him, though. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on top of his jacket. Never before had he felt physically surpassed, not like this. Derek was ripped hard, he had not missed that.

"Kinds, then. What first?" His face was less sure than his words, though he wasn't aware of it.

Derek looked Jackson over once he'd disrobed as instructed, though to the on looking eye it didn't seem like Derek was using his sight in such a way at all, features set in stone and just as sensitive. At least Jackson had a good foundation, physically. He was lean and nicely built, obviously fit. That would give him an advantage in his rushed predicament, and also in the future. If he lived to see it.

"Hit me." Derek said, smirking, dark eyes widening for the short time it took to speak the two words. He looked like a stubbly menace. He was one.

"You get three chances. All you have to do is swing at me. Every time you miss, that's twenty push-ups." he explained, unaware that there was a reason Jackson might find this instruction a little unsettling. He ended the momentary silence.

"Well?" both of his big man-hands rose to his chest height, fingers kept together, fanning in again and again to provoke and welcome Jackson's efforts.

"What are you waiting for, the next bus to Gayfaceville?" it'd help to get Jackson angry, if that's what it took to break the ice between his clean cut human self, and his unknown animal within.

"What?" Jackson was used to being coached and trained, but by humans, and as a human. The only things he'd hit for training were heavy bags. He frowned, shaking out his arms and jumping a little. Ok, so he'd get no warm ups, no building to rougher exercises. Though he still didn't get it. What did Derek mean, every time he missed? Was he going to be fighting this full-grown, born werewolf?

Derek was intentionally provoking him now, almost acting as if he believed Jackson couldn't land a hit, with him standing there. "Gimme a break here," he shot angrily, in response to Derek's taunt. Why was he waiting though? The born wolf had given the young jock more than enough reason to want to attack him, and thinking about what he'd done just made Jackson more angry. He liked feeling angry. Jackson ran at Derek, aiming a fist at the older man's nose, prepared to follow up with his left in an uppercut to the chin.

Finally. Derek effortlessly dodged the first attack, standing still and not even needing to reposition his feet or his posture much at all. As Jackson went in for an uppercut to his jaw, Derek jumped overhead, twisting in the air so he'd be facing Jackson in the distance when he landed. It was like gravity had different rules for him, and like an invisible force helped to move Derek through the air. Visually it was surreal, it looked too effortless than the mind could make sense of.

"Two down. Third time lucky." Derek's very stare mocked Jackson, challenged him, told him how small he was to his opponent. His lips curled again, teeth revealed behind them. Derek was handsome and a bastard. He didn't mind that reputation at all. In fact, he worked hard to maintain it.

"Is it really so hard to hit me? I know you're pretty but I didn't take you for a total fag." of course he didn't really think Jackson was gay. He didn't even have a problem with the gays either; more pussy for him. But he obviously enjoyed pissing the kid off, at least under these circumstances.

He didn't understand; his fists met nothing but the too-smooth air. Jackson knew it wasn't a fair match by any means, that he couldn't read body language or anticipate his challenger's next move. But knowing didn't help his cause, it just made him worse. He turned to face Derek again, knuckles cracking loudly as he clenched his fists tight.

"Stand still you fucking dick," his voice raised as it always did when he got angry, though he felt something more to it. Derek continued to make a sport of his failings, mocking him cruelly for it. Jackson launched himself at Derek again, line of vision focused only on that fucking smug grin. Instead of worrying for himself, as he had when his anger was still under his control, he connected solidly with Derek, hitting just under his ribs hard with a rough jab, though he would find that he'd done more damage to his still mostly human body than to Derek's highly disciplined one.

So Jackson had some spunk. Derek's eyebrows raised in surprised appreciation of it. He didn't even know he was capable of that expression, since he'd never had many reasons to let it slip before. Than again, since he wasn't looking in a mirror, he still wouldn't know. Probably just as well; Derek was better off thinking he was a constantly moody prick with sociopathic impulses. It was his thing. He let Jackson land his next punch, just to show him who was boss. He didn't budge or even wince from it, instead he looked down with proud, robust posture as Jackson started to learn of the pain now ripping through his hand. Derek smirked and shook his head.

"Second lesson; that's gonna hurt. Just count yourself lucky that I'm mostly on dodge duty. For now." he barely let Jackson recover before walking over to a seat and sitting on it the wrong way around, pulling it into the center of the room a little, facing the transitioning wolf where he crouched on the floor, cursing at his fist.

"Forty push ups. Now. God you're slow." he said with a bored tone. He was hard on Jackson, and he wouldn't deny that, but it would be stupid to think he didn't have reasons for putting Jackson through this sort of hardship. If asked, he might even explain it.

* * *

><p>As the localized agony blossomed in his knuckles and fingers, Jackson's anger subsided. He held his wrist, feeling the pain start to fade, but very slowly. It was difficult to tell if he'd fractured any bones from how hard he'd punched Derek. "Just gimme-" He sighed, frustrated, flexing his fingers gently.<p>

Jackson toughed it out, though, getting into push up position and beginning. The pressure was killer on his injured hand, and it slowed him at first. Until the pain had either left or he'd gotten used to it. Hard to tell which it was. Jackson counted under his breath, watching the floor vary in it's distance from his face. But at least now he was in comfortable territory, doing some actual training. How long would that last, though, he wondered.

"You're solid," he muttered, sitting up on his knees from the finished sets, "Werewolf thing or training thing?"

A crooked smile sliced across Derek's face. He observed with unspoken, modest pride as Jackson fought past the pain to do what needed to be done. Good. An enemy wouldn't wait for him to lick his wounds before striking again. Maybe the little asshole was starting to learn. Maybe his nature wasn't as unfitting for candidacy as a werewolf after all. Early days yet, Derek thought, not one to compliment too easily.

"Both." Derek boasted, although he couldn't be accused of lying. He was a force to be reckoned with as a man or a wolf. Unfortunately for others, he was both, and not made weaker for a single aspect of it.

"Don't worry, I won't let you hit me again. Today's just about trying anyway." and though he didn't elaborate, there was a science to it; 'it' ironically being the primal magic at play.

Honing predatory instincts, provoking aggressive response, refining combat skills and conditioning one's self with rage; it all spoke to the wolf within, lured it out from the depths of the human soul is took refuge in, hiding there. In time, this training would introduce man to his wolf, bridge the gap between the two. Jackson didn't even need to know that, though it might have brought some consolation.

"Let me?" Jackson's ego took a bit of a hit there, though it already had with the amount of pain he'd experienced from the punch, rather than Derek feeling it.

"The point wasn't to hit you, was it?" That had just been the method for this first lesson. Or second, from Derek's view. Jackson flexed his hand again, balling it up into a fist and fanning it out, palm up, watching it. No more pain.

"I'm healing faster," he noted, "But not as fast as it will be later, right?" Later being whenever he was fully a werewolf. In truth, he was sort of looking forward to that. "What's next? And please tell me it doesn't involve duct tape and lacrosse balls."

"Do I look like I think anything good comes from lacrosse?" and no, he really didn't, though other more depraved and risky activities sprung to mind when one thought about the sort of man Derek was, and what that may have entailed in terms of recreational habits. Derek stood up while Jackson finished his pushes, towering directly before him, looking down at his head as it bobbed to and fro. That made him breathe out a laugh, but he wouldn't say why.

"When you're done, get up. This time, you're dodging. Same rules. I get three shots, and every hit I land, you drop and give me another twenty." Derek smirked wildly, and luckily he didn't do guilt, or maybe he just didn't care how cruel that his gloating might have just been. It'd be fun to see how the kid took a real punch. He didn't seem to like the idea much at all. Right now, Jackson stunk of fear and annoyance. At least his brain chemistry was intact.

"What? Don't worry, I'm not exactly going to give you my best. No good to me brain dead." he 'reassured'.

Jackson paused, arms bent and torso very near the ground. He was, on a good day, just a little terrified of being attacked by Derek. Being told it was coming didn't really help him. Jackson finished his set, swallowing nervously once before he stood.

"You can sneak up on me without me knowing, and you...you're a real werewolf. This isn't-" he almost said fair, but realized that Derek wouldn't give a shit about fair or balance. And his insistence that Jackson was going to benefit from getting hit with only a little bit of power didn't make him feel any better.

Jackson kept an intense focus on Derek now, though, looking a little ridiculous with how wide his eyes were as they tried not to blink. He felt jumpy, like the slightest movement from the older man would make him flinch hard. Jackson only hoped that there wouldn't be any bruises in obvious areas that would need to be explained away.

"Not meant to be fair. You want it to be fair? Then for now, this is what you got to do." after all, this training and shared closeness was all to catalyze Jackson's transformation, and help him control it sooner than he would naturally have done so. It wasn't for shits and giggles. Derek liked his own space, and he had things to do, what with a revenge plot to take down Scott's Alpha, the one who killed his family, all the while surviving him, or her as the case may be. This wasn't about pushing around some pipsqueak jock who was too big for his boots. That just made it more enjoyable. Derek wouldn't even deny that.

From a casual, smiling stance, Derek slapped Jackson across the face with the back of his hand. When the boy looked at him again, the older wolf would be expressionless as always. The noise of the strike snapped through the air. It was hard. Hard enough to leave Jackson's cheek stinging and rosy, but not hard enough to knock him backwards off his feet. Derek could do much worse; he was just giving him a little taste.

"Oh come on, I barely touched you." he insisted.

He was more surprised by the slap than hurt from it. Not that it didn't hurt, Jackson could feel the area reddening up. Did that count? Apparently it did.

"I haven't been slapped since...since I pissed off Lydia." But this was more menacing than an angry girlfriend. He took a step back, keeping an eye on both arms, though he watched Derek's face for clues as to where the next blow might come.

"Is this supposed to make me listen to my instincts or whatever?" Jackson raised his own arms a little, to at least prepare for an attempted block. He tried listening, but there was a serious lack of communication between his new nature and his human senses. Besides, what could an enhanced smell tell him about where Derek would strike next?

Next, Derek punched Jackson at the side of his ribs, and not needing or wanting necessarily to prolong it, he delivered the third and final blow to his face, not remembering enough to tame his mean right hook, sending Jackson up off his feet a little, stumbling into the wall behind him clumsily.

"That's sixty." he said flippantly, not yet realizing there was call for apology for that last hit being a little harder than promised. He looked down at the bloody nose and swollen lip that would be good as new in a handful of minutes or so.

"Oops. My bad. I'm not used to hitting things gently." he explained, sounding very manly, like his every pore dripped with enough testosterone and thick machismo ego to emasculate a world's worth of Hell's Angels and render them obsolete. Hearing him say 'oops' like that, with those dead eyes and lack of even feigned sarcastic emotion; that was something, unnerving and rare. He offered a hand to help Jackson up.

"The wolf inside you, it responds to anger, fight or flight, fear. Making you hit me, making you feel pain, making you anticipate my attacks, it's pushing the wolf closer to the surface, bringing it out." he explained, serious for a moment.

"Not gonna lie. Don't hate kicking your ass." he joked, though there was truth to it, his smile looking edible enough to rip from his face and start munching on.

Jackson winced and groaned a little at the hit to his ribs, but he made himself take it. The next one was much worse, and he could feel the blood oozing warmly from his nose as he hit the wall. He felt his injuries tenderly, with a sour expression. "Oh fuck you, Derek. I'm sure you're so sorry you got to punch me." In the face, no less.

He accepted the hand up, though he felt like he really wanted to respond in kind. And then of course Derek admitted it, and even that made Jackson a little less pissed. Just a little. Derek was a cocky, arrogant bastard. Kindred spirits. Did the unimportant people at school see him like this? He didn't care enough to bother finding out.

"So basically, getting the shit kicked out of me and pissing me off speeds everything up." Jackson didn't know how that worked, but he was fine with it. But he owed Derek push-ups now, as he'd anticipated. He lowered himself to the floor again, taking to a faster pace. It was only his face, and ribs a little, that hurt, and that had nothing to do with the motion. Except that causing his blood to pump faster increased the pain just a bit.

"So what. It's...wolf thing and then push ups?" Whatever Derek deemed 'wolf things' to be, of course.

"Sure." was Derek's nonchalant agreement to how Jackson supposed the training worked.

"Now, outside. A hundred laps around the house. I trust you won't need me to hold your hand for that. Get back to me when you're done. Then I'm going to give you a head start and chase you down. If I catch you, then it's another hundred laps. Repeat five times a day for best results. Oh and Jackson-" he paused, throwing a particularly cunty look to the younger man "-you cut out laps, I'm gonna smell it and make you start over." because he was good like that.

Jackson didn't think it now, but in the end, this living Hell would pay off. He might even be the living example that made Scott realize how wrong he'd been to turn down Derek's help when first offered.

"Don't take your time." Derek crisply insisted in a sluggish droll, heading into the kitchen where he went on to read the daily newspapers, stopwatch and bottle of water arranged without pattern on the small table where he sat unsophisticatedly.

* * *

><p>Outside, Jackson ran hard. He focused on some invisible piece of reward dangling in front of him. Each lap only built his rage, his determination to finish and be done with the sickness and pain of being between human and werewolf. It was bad for his skin. Even when he felt tired, he pressed on, not letting himself slow for even a moment. When he was set on something, he did so obsessively, committing his entire being to it. Though one could argue that Jackson was in need of committing, at times.<p>

Finally a hundred laps had been ran, and he jogged into the house, knowing that what came next would push him even harder. This wasn't the time to get complacent. There would be a hundred laps following this exercise; it was stupid to think he could outrun Derek in his current state.

"Done." He panted, sweaty despite the chill in the air outside. "Where...do I go." Through the vast woods surrounding the property, most likely. His eyes drifted to the bottled water, though; he was very thirsty.

Over an hour later and the fifth cycle of the imposed regiment had been completed. Jackson was catching on now and was slowly improving in his lap times, not that he was definitely aware he was being timed and assessed. He may have been wiped, but he'd get used to it and it would get easier, recovery time already less than that of a human's. Derek stood in front of him looking him up and down.

At least now he smelled like something resembling a wolf, thick with perspiration and inhuman body heat, as well as telltale pheromones, though only traces at this point. It was something.

"Okay, you did good tonight. So. Same time tomorrow." Derek wasn't used to dealing with human feelings, and was unsure how to thank or congratulate someone, if he even thought to. It was alien to his nature.

He sensed the elephant in the room though, like there was something he should be saying or doing, and something Jackson wanted or needed from him. Not sure what it was or how to give it, he attempted some sort of small talk. He found a topic in eyeing the boy's young flesh, sticky sweat now upon it, salty and hot like he'd never experienced before.

"Told you about the hot thing." He tried to open a channel of communication, not yet aware that it was of more friendly tone than usual, which he would have been so opposed to.

He'd ran and ran, no complaints or fight put up each time Derek had caught him, forced him to run again. Jackson thought he'd earned more than casually positive feedback for his efforts. It disappointed him that he hadn't lived up to Derek's standards. Maybe he'd done better than expected, but how the hell could he know? Jackson was drained, but at least he had finished. Made himself finish. He had always looked down on losers, and absolutely did not tolerate failure in himself.

"Yeah," he agreed, glancing down at himself, "Not workout heat. Like…a fever." Jackson wasn't aware how telling his expressions were, now that he wanted Derek's approval as a wolf.

"So...is this it then? I come here, train, and go home?" His eyebrows lifted in concern.

"You did...make me a werewolf and all. Doesn't that...make us a pack?" That was what he really wanted. He had his human pack, the ones who groomed him into the successful athlete he was at present time. It was time for a new one, and though Jackson was sure he would appreciate the training in due time, he didn't want it to be the sole purpose of interaction. A little weak on his part, perhaps; he could feel that.

"You want to..." Derek's face bunched up quizzically as he rooted for an answer, a final word to use, eventually finding it, "...stay?" For once his usually still, dangerously enigmatic eyes shifted, not comfortable with the notion now that he'd come upon it. He certainly wasn't good at that things humans did; chatting. It led to talking about feelings. Horrible.

Though he was far from exerted, it wouldn't be realistic to expect any more energy from Jackson, so bonding over sports was out of the question too. "You should really take a bath. Before you leave." is all he could think of, which was fine enough. It was something. "I'll run one for us." and yes, he said us.

Jackson nodded, and it hit him, finally, that Derek was as unused to human experience as the jock was to wolf nature. No wonder he did so terribly in social situations. "I-ok. Thank you." There wasn't much else to be said, not when it seemed to cause Derek mental anguish just by interacting normally. Jackson wasn't going to question Derek's assumption that they were would bathe together, or that the jock took actual baths at all. For all he knew, it could give the older wolf all the reason needed to attack or throw him out of the house for the night.

Jackson downed the refilled bottle of water while Derek went to start their bath. Hell, maybe that was normal for werewolves. How could he know? He didn't rush up the stairs when the water began to run. Jackson did note how clearly he heard it, though, finding that cool at least. Maybe a bath was a good idea, he decided at the top of the staircase. He entered the bathroom, leaning on the sink and crossing his arms.

"Guess werewolves aren't really...talkers?" Not that he was the most eloquent speaker, or nearly as chatty as his girlfriend.

* * *

><p>Some time had passed and the bath Derek had ran was complete, hotter than human skin found comfortable but not to his exact tastes, remembering that Jackson was in transition and not a full wolf just yet. The water was thick with natural minerals, cloudy enough to disallow seeing through it very far. Derek hated soap, it made him itch.<p>

He glanced over his shoulder as Jackson walked through, mildly acknowledging his presence and checking again with one hand that the water wouldn't be unbearable for the new cub. Derek shrugged at the question asked. Without warning, he started peeling off what little clothes he had on, unashamedly. Just as well, they were wet through with sweat. His body as previously revealed was of strong form.

Flatteringly hirsute in agreeable areas. He looked like he couldn't be moved by a car, thick thighs and torso with a posture that just dared people to try and make it budge to no avail. What curves he had were in the right places, meaty and solid and without a blemish, a little olive too which didn't hurt. Suddenly his feet and hands didn't seem too big to be joined to the rest of him.

Once undressed, he stepped into the bath and lowered himself down without hesitation until subsided. He hadn't been cautious of revealing any part of his naked form yet, and had not even given it any thought, so was not aware of how much or little Jackson had seen. Nor did he care. His typically still expression moved to follow Jackson, cold eyes threatening to dream something unpleasant it seemed.

"Are you getting in?" he asked. It'd be weird now if Jackson just stood there watching him.

Being a jock, he was used to seeing other guys naked, especially in situations like this, at the school showers, or even at the gym. This was a little different, though, a little more intimate. No fatties to make fun of, whip a towel at, no jokes or comparison of girls. Plus, he hadn't shared a bath with any of his guy friends. But Derek wasn't really a friend. Or an enemy. Jackson wasn't sure what to call him, but Alpha worked, he supposed.

The way Derek disrobed himself was just like his demeanour at all other times. Uncaring, fluid in motion, and arrogant in posture, as always. Jackson felt like he should look away, but he didn't. There was so much more to Derek's build than he could have guessed. He wanted to be like that, a seemingly untouchable wolf, perfect and unfailing in every aspect.

"Uh, yeah, I'm..." Jackson unfastened his jeans, sliding off his tennis shoes and pulling off his socks, though he hesitated to remove his boxers. He'd caught an accidental glimpse of what hung between Derek's thighs when the wolf had gotten into the bath. Jackson, normally proud to flaunt himself, stepped into the water modestly, sitting awkwardly at the opposite end of the tub.

"So...punching and running on the agenda for tomorrow?"

"Yes." Derek agreed, not caring that Jackson might have found his new routine mundane or detrimental. It was an answer, and it was true. It would do. His regular disposition of calm was not upset by Jackson's nudity as it happened in direct view of him, or now that it shared his water.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END<strong>


	3. Making a Splash

**Title:** Orphan  
><strong>Type:<strong> PreSlash, Angst, FriendShip, Snark  
><strong>Rating:<strong> NC-17  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Teen Wolf [MTV Series]  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore  
><strong>Setting:<strong> Sometime after Season 1 Episode 6 "Heart Monitor"  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 6811  
><strong>Summary:<strong> After a hard day of training, Derek's drawn his new cub a bath. Much to Jackson's surprise, his alpha joins without warning or question. There's more than just training to get Jackson ready to be a wolf, though. A little wolfy bonding never hurt anyone, although that might not be the most accurate statement in Derek's case. Who knew that either one could take a heart-to-heart seriously? Not that Jackson's body plans on making that any easier on them, it seems. Still, Derek's bathtub is cozy, if you can call it that. What's a young pup to do?

**Warnings:** This chapter in the series is rated NC-17 for use of swearing and underlying homoerotic development, as well as occurrences of nudity and sexual touching. Spoilerish to those who have not seen up to Season 1 Episode 6 "Heart Monitor", and possibly episodes following that. First attempt at a Teen Wolf fic, so be gentle. Due to the show being so young, we have taken liberties and made up/twisted some of the show's own lore, for the sake of this pairing/fic. This is a co-write so please excuse any shifts in perspective change you encounter. Jackson is written by me, VarrosGirly and Derek by Jaxon666. Comments always welcome so long as you don't have a stick up your ass. Thanks!

* * *

><p>"Did you check the marks? On your neck." Derek smirked, having noticed before that Jackson's training today had brought him far enough in to wolfhood to heal them up pretty nicely. Jackson of course did not have eyes at the back of his head. Still, a sign of progress both could celebrate, even if one barely did so, and without obvious words at that. Toothy grin would have to be enough.<p>

He looked at Jackson's body language. Natural werewolves didn't need a diploma in the subject to be masters of it. "You look sketchy. Water too hot?" he thought he'd made it cool enough. Great, so now he bathed in waters that were too cool for him to fully enjoy, for no reason.

They hadn't been giving him any pain, so Jackson had forgotten the claw wounds that had throbbed and pulsed randomly over the past days. He felt the back of his neck, his hand only finding smooth flesh. No scabs, no marks, no nothing. His mouth spread in an excited grin. He instinctively knew what it meant, and it stroked at his young, wolfy ego. Jackson could thank Derek later, though he was sure that Derek wasn't one who was used to thanks, or excitement, or interaction.

"No, it's...the water's fine. It's just hot enough." He was comfortable, and it was actually helping his own overheated skin cool down. "It's just...I think we have very different ideas of the concept of male bonding." In nature, actual wolves sort of bathed each other, at least on the Discovery channel.

"But I mean, it's me who's coming into your world now," he scratched the back of his neck, barely aware how much he had missed being just about completely flawless. "I'm not used to sharing crap with people. Let alone baths."

"Why?" Derek asked, stone-faced, really finding nothing unusual about anything that had happened yet. His eyes seemed larger than just a few seconds ago as they peered at Jackson unkindly for judging him in a way Derek couldn't find reason for. "Oh. It's about the bath?" he asked with a cocked brow "Really?" he asked cynically, almost rolling his eyes, but he didn't really do that, ever.

"You don't like it, get out." he said just short of anger, trying just a little to keep his cool. Now was not a time to offend him, in his domain, in his home, when he had attempted to reach out to an inferior who had yet to prove himself indefinitely.

"Hey, I didn't say I didn't…like it." That sounded a little gay, now that it was out in the open like that, but oh well. "I'm just really not used to being...close. To…anyone." His adoptive parents, they were there for Jackson, but they didn't really know the real him, as far as he was concerned. Lydia, she didn't care, his friends were fellow jocks who were just as vague with emotion and relationships.

"Okay." Derek resided to civility, eyes focussing on a random tile upon the furthest wall from him whilst he simmered down. Given what Jackson had shared with him, it was best to let him know of a few changes that were to come, especially since they were irreversible and undone only by death.

"The more wolf you get, the closer we'll become. Not just by choice." he explained an interesting point "Not that I don't prefer my own kind, but even if I didn't, we're connected now. Bonded. It's in our blood. It's gonna seem like you've known me a lot longer. You're gonna get all my jokes, know what I'm thinking just by a look. You can kiss normal goodbye. Or your ass, if you get too cocky or too sloppy with your training." Derek couldn't help but add a little of himself to that informative divulgence.

"I want this to be something, not just you kicking my ass until I turn into a wolf out of some survival instinct." Like he'd said before, they were a pack now, or something like it, and with that, he expected an almost family-like thing. "Okay, yesterday, when you showed me the heart rate thing? That was pretty fucking cool."

"Oh, you liked that?" it pleased Derek that Jackson had liked an aspect of his growing wolfhood for once, even if it did seem a little gay.

Jackson smiled, chuckling a little at the obligatory threat. "That's...neat." It was almost like having an older brother, but he didn't want to sound lame or sentimental. "And from what you keep telling me, I'm gonna get my full growl on pretty soon." How useful that was, though, to a pack. "Yeah. I mean, aside from getting thrown into a wall, that was the most interesting part of the night."

"With training...give it two weeks. With biting on top of that? Give it one. Though that could get...weird." Derek didn't really have inhibitions like humans did, but he didn't want to deal with human freak-outs due to his mouth being against Jackson's flesh more than once a day. "Trouble is you were infected by a scratch. It's sort of like a shot. Makes you sick, leaves you immune, but not a full hit. So now even biting won't turn you overnight." it was suddenly dawning on both men that Derek was capable of multiple sentences, even ones that did not involve being mean to someone. His fierce eyes still did that job for him though.

He cupped water into his hands, pouring it over his head. The feeling was very welcome, and it felt good to get the sweat off his scalp. Jackson slicked his hair back, now curious about the apparent side effects of being turned into a wolf. "How close? Is it like…Spidey sense? If one of us is in trouble, will the other just...know it?"

Then Derek answered Jackson's second inquiry "Sometimes." but that was all he was getting. He turned his head a little to the side, as if listening for something. "You don't hear that?" he did something like a smile "Heartbeats matched up again. We're not even touching." And by the slight glint of a menacing beam upon Derek's face, that was quite impressive at this stage.

"Good thing I didn't catch whatever you had that day. You looked like…well, bad." He remembered his place with Derek, who could still kick his ass. So many little things that Jackson had seen but not really noticed, things that now made sense to him, that both Derek and Scott had done in his presence. It seemed obvious, now that he knew the secret. Jackson glanced to the doorway, wondering for a moment what Derek was hearing before he spoke. And then he listened, hearing the difference between their hearts, though they beat on the same rhythm. It took an amount of intense concentration since he was distracted by thoughts all over the place, but he focused, his gaze blindly aimed at Derek's chest.

"Woah. That's good, isn't it?" Something he could be proud of, again, and clearly something Derek found pride in. And that made it even better for the young wolf.

"When you were hanging around Scott so much, always looking for him and everything...why? Looked like he couldn't stand being around you. I mean granted, I still think you might rip my head off for looking at you wrong, but...it's different." McCall relied on his human friends now, who didn't know anything about him being a werewolf. And he'd screwed up so many times.

"Scott is...annoying. More than you. That's not good." Derek explained, so dryly it could have evaporated a few pints of water "Not smart. Lone wolves live less." and the way he said that, like a pun, made it seem that that was a common phrasing used by most natural wolves. "Don't worry about him. Worry about you. If we can bring him on side, it won't hurt. But he'd always be an outsider."

Jackson was now more curious about the mystery that continued to surround Scott. He guessed that Derek hadn't turned him, though he thought so at first. Who, then, and where were they? Questions he'd get answered some other time, maybe.

Perhaps tempted to use another of his heightened senses due to doing so by ear to some success and interest, Derek took a few random sniffs at the air, looking as though he gave something a few choice thoughts thereafter. "Are you a virgin, Jackson?" he asked without mockery in his tone "You smell like one. Kind of act like one, but only kind of. No…a lot more than kind of." apparently there was a hormonal element he could detect within Jackson's scent to determine this, but perhaps only to a margin of success which may have been tampered with further due to Jackson's transitional status.

"Don't answer if you don't want to. I don't care." and he didn't really.

But now, Derek's inquiry worried Jackson, just a little. He was no innocent, untouched thing, but he was a little inexperienced in just one area, which nobody else ever accused him of or even thought twice about. The last thing Lydia continued to hold over his head, tease him with unkindly at times. Jackson remembered how Derek had made him repeat himself before, after asking if he was lying about the attack at the video store. Maybe he could smell a lie. Or something. Which was kind of cool. Kind of bad.

"Everything but," he admitted, resting his forearms on his knees, locking his fingers together. "What does virgin smell like anyway?" More things he didn't understand, but was intrigued by.

"Like you. Take a big whiff." Derek teased, but it seemed like a joke this time, even if it was at Jackson's expense. Then his eyes seemed troubled for a few moments. He shook his head as if disappointed by something, and looked to his wolf cub with a measure of annoyance and judgment.

"Try not to get a hard-on next time we're taking a bath. Or in the same room. Thanks." He shook his head again, looking away from the boy, to his side. It was more of a hindrance than anything; he wasn't offended or disgusted on a massive level. An unnecessary mishap. He'd have to get used to things like that around a made wolf. They didn't know the lore, the customs, or have self-control. Humans were such assholes.

Derek poured some water over his own head and ruffled his hair, though it seemed to return to its previous style perfectly. Maybe as his general posture and range of expression suggested, he really couldn't be moved.

Jackson rolled his eyes with a light smirk. Derek wasn't as bad of a guy as he had thought once upon a time. Big bad was now daddy wolf, as weird as it was to imagine. Jackson hadn't even noticed his random erection before it was pointed out and even then, it was hard to notice through the cloudy water.

"Okay, I didn't know...it's a random boner pop, it happens." But with Derek's reaction to it, he felt like he ought to be ashamed of it, somewhat. Like he was supposed to have complete control over his body now, when it was going through things he once thought to be impossible.

* * *

><p>"I can't smell it…and it's not playing periscope up in the water. How'd you know I had one?" Jackson guessed he'd sneak into Lydia's house again tonight, get her to do something about his apparent werewolf lust.<p>

Derek looked like he'd rather chew a wasp than answer that one. Then again, the kid had to know these things if Derek wanted to blame him for them happening in the future, enough to justify a smack upside the head. "You get one, I get one. At this range anyway. For now. When we're…connected." It was a first to see Derek uncomfortable saying something, if only a little bit. It didn't suit him at all. Still, he was Derek, which meant that awkwardness couldn't last for long, at least not on his side.

"Not bad by the way. Your dick. I saw it before. Usually kids like you are pissed off because puberty didn't help them out. Not that you look like you've gone through it yet." Derek punished Jackson playfully with his humour, words rolling huskily through a dirty grin as he washed his arms, running each hand over the opposite one alternatively.

Jackson wasn't sure how to react to that, whether he should laugh or worry over this revelation. It was interesting, for sure, and definitely something he'd keep in mind. Thankfully, Derek changed the topic somewhat, saving them both the awkward silence. He relaxed a little, leaning back on his end of the tub, stretching his arms along the sides.

"Thanks," he laughed, "But now I guess I get to go through a new puberty. Or something like that." Jackson felt like he was supposed to compliment back, though it was something he didn't really do, especially to naked men on their physique. "Saw yours, sort of," he shrugged, scrubbing the grime of physical exertion from his chest, "Looked…big, and um. Good. But you're…really built, everywhere."

"Yeah. I am." Derek was not opposed to being cocky, in fact in most cases it was his first instinct, socially. Somewhere in it though, he seemed thankful for the returned compliment. At least Jackson wasn't so stuck in his human ways that it silenced him in times when potential wolfy bonding presented itself. He'd keep that in mind. Maybe Jackson would get a little more respect for that.

"Just a shower then? Or a grower too?" he asked, obviously not interested in a worrying way. This conversation just seemed very casual as far as Derek was concerned, no matter how unconventional and atypical. "Don't think you'll be letting the pack down with that." It seemed Derek didn't want anything average being dicked about from a member of his own flock.

"Uh...well both." Derek was weirdly cool with it, and that somehow made Jackson alright with the conversation, but not by much. "And thanks. Again," he smiled lightly before lifting more water onto his body, rubbing away the sweat and dirt from the afternoon's workout. Somehow, with everything that Derek said, it always sounded like it could at least be twisted into something mean, even if it probably already was.

"The water's kind of..." Dirty? Murky? "Different. You don't have any soap?" Not that he felt he needed it, deep down, but he was used to lathering up with something when bath water was involved. It was a comfort thing. "Why are you living back in this old place anyway?" And so displaced from the rest of the town.

"Soap," Derek said, sending an undeniable wave of his own displeasure at the thought of the substance, with just one word, "I don't like soap." he seemed like he was chewing through steak for the blood in it.

"This is my home. Why should I leave?" He didn't care that his once impressive home was now scarred with burnt out decadence and broken down like a discarded dollhouse. He was practical, and it was marginally clean where it needed to be. He had a bed. More to the point, his home had meaning to him, and he would not accept defeat at the hands of whatever killed his family by leaving it. His resolve was spiked and absolute.

"You must be horny. It's not going anywhere." He didn't seem as bothered as before, speaking with loose regard for the mutual, symbiotic erections shared between them "When I was your age I'd have to beat off ten times a day...or screw as many girls. Word of advice; practice safe sex. And don't have kids until you stop looking like one." He'd always sound mean, but like this, with a warm smirk, his conversation seemed friendlier, enticing even.

Jackson shrugged, slicking his hair back again. It had been drying and falling down over his forehead, which he hated. That made him look like he had bangs or something. Derek had sentimental value attached to the house, fair enough, and he was happy living here. It wasn't like he entertained company all that often. Still, it was kind of a dump. In fact most dumps had better structural integrity.

"Yeah...sort of a dry spell kind of thing." He and Lydia hadn't actually fucked yet, but they did enough for him not to feel like a virgin. She was being uptight and bitchy about whatever it was she got that way over. Not like he listened close enough to notice or care, half the time. Maybe that was part of it.

"The last thing I need to do is have a kid," he snorted, leaning his forearms onto his knees. "But...if I ever do...is it gonna be like me?" Jackson had been turned, so he wasn't sure if he could produce a werewolf child. "I mean, even with a normal girl? Can I even make one with a girl wolf?"

"Don't sweat it for now." Derek snarled, but not at Jackson, more at the idea of more kids being born in the world. It was overpopulated already in his opinion, and by morons with penis envy and bad breath, not badass werewolves like him. The thought of him having to baby-sit a baby wolf made his eyes scrunch angrily, even if it would mean the continuation of a new line of natural wolves.

"Over here. Let me see your back." Derek wanted to inspect Jackson's form with more than just his eyes, maybe work out a few knots for the little shit. After all it had been his first day of intensive training, and it wasn't going to get any easier. Grooming like this between wolves, especially male wolves of the same pack, was more than normal. Sometimes almost obligatory by nature and impulse.

"I don't bite. Well. Unless you want to get your full wolf on a little sooner." those shrewd lips curled again.

At least Derek was supportive. In his own way. Kinda. Not really. Jackson was sure that until he had control over himself, he wouldn't even attempt sex, so there was nothing to worry about there. Cheerleaders looked better without their throats torn out, he imagined.

"Oh, um, okay?" Jackson turned in the tub, legs squishing up against his torso for a moment before he extended them to push himself toward Derek. Whatever the bond they had continued to grow into now, it made him trust the darker wolf, a lot; inexplicably even. Jackson wasn't so much afraid of him as he was respectfully wary, but there was still that touch of fear left over from their past interactions.

"I dunno, I'm doing pretty well with this whole training thing, right?" he smirked over his shoulder at Derek, though the idea of getting bit here in the bath...it was a little unnerving. "I think it's a good idea to like, not bite me now. Slower is good." He ran a set of fingers through his hair. "What's it like? Being…you know, what I'll be? Turning?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, you'll get in my way." Who said a badass couldn't have witty one liners? Derek looked at the flesh and muscle he now kneaded and firmed his hands over in doubt and harsh criticism, rubbing over the boy's shoulders, spreading out his shoulder and neck muscles, pressing his palms into the meat of his sides, assessing throughout.

"You're stronger than you look. No fat on you. That helps." Derek confirmed, although, "Could be bigger. Guess we can work on that." Because he couldn't let Jackson feel too sure of himself now could he? He was giving a genuine briefing of his youthful physicality, though.

"Hurts the first few times, but then you stop caring. Luckily you've got an Alpha to control you when you turn. Otherwise you might eat your girlfriend...and not in the way you already do." He wasn't kidding, but he still looked encouragingly amused with himself, and yet at the same time so manly it was sexy. He was like someone a street thug would seek approval from, the ultimate in cool and guy. Best of all; he could give a shit.

Jackson shut his eyes, grunting as Derek worked out his sore muscles. It felt great, especially since he was going to need this kind of strength for any kind of stress relief now. He let his head dip and sway a little, grinning at the compliment, almost expecting the follow up comment. He agreed, though, that he could be bigger. Just one look at Derek without his shirt on was enough to make him want a gym to appear right next to him, complete with about ten protein shakes.

"Lucky I'm getting used to being pushed then," he let out one short laugh, stretching his neck as he sat up straighter. "She'd flip her shit if she ever found out about this. Especially after the video store." Jackson knew what that had been about now, though he also knew that it hadn't been Derek. Somehow.

"So you can control me?" Interesting, even if a little worrying. Derek was still pretty unpredictable, but Jackson didn't want to rush into completely trusting him after one good day of bonding over werewolf training. He couldn't help that he was feeling like he did trust him, though.

"How does that work? I have to do what you say no matter what or something?"

Done exploring Jackson's muscles, Derek guided his shoulders back onto him, the older werewolf spreading his body fully across the length of the bath basin now, though his torso remained upright, if to a slant. He'd welcomed and eased Jackson's back to rest against his thick torso. Boner placement really wasn't a concern. For him.

"You'll want to do whatever I say, more and more, even if you fight it," he began to reveal, grooming Jackson's scalp with his fingertips, catching glances of one side of the boy's face, looking down at an angle past his neck. "And if you hear my call, you'll do anything I want. Relax. Not like I'm gonna do it for kicks." Jackson really ought not to think him that pathetic.

"I know, but...I mean, I'm just getting used to this. I've had a little over twenty-four hours to process it, and there's a lot I don't know yet. I wanna know everything. I don't like going half-assed into anything." Jackson could feel Derek's heartbeat in his back now, and it seemed as if they were hooked up somehow through their bodies, a giant sense of shared gravity thumping through their respective hearts. It would take a couple days before the novelty of it wore off.

"You like me don't you." Derek almost laughed, finding it funny and audacious to say such a thing, even if it was true. Days ago, Jackson would have hated seeing himself like this. Maybe even now, he'd have trouble admitting it. "That's okay pup. I won't tell."

His body being pulled back, unexpectedly, Jackson glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow. The young jock fought the moment, his natural, human instincts trying to make him want to get out of the tub. But this was so relaxing, and Derek was being so...nice. Jackson liked it. But who wouldn't, given their history? Once again though, he was put completely at ease, his body losing the slight tension in his torso. Jackson squirmed a little, feeling the hard-on he'd inadvertently caused, repositioning so he didn't get quite an obvious feel of it.

"Okay, yeah. You're...way more interesting than I used to think. And well, pretty cool." Jackson shut his eyes, head wiggling a little, pleased by the scalp massage. "And badass. But I guess I knew that already." Along with everyone else.

This time Derek did laugh, the usual gravel in his tone crunching through it. Jackson was such a little diva. It was annoying, and yet Derek though he'd have a lot of fun with that, especially taming and reprimanding it. "You want to know everything. You're such a little shit." He let out a breath of grumbled laughter again, skin hotter to the touch than Jackson's; notably so, especially in the water.

"I am cool. And badass." he put his arms around Jackson's neck and rested his hands on his chest, leaving them there for now. "I know your parents...not really your parents." He'd discovered that during recon, and could tell by scent alone, as well as behavioural tells, "You got me now. Just…don't cry and ask for hugs." His way of comforting Jackson, letting him know he understood him.

* * *

><p>He chuckled again, like a boss. Why? "I can see your boner." Nothing to be done about that from this angle, unless Jackson used his hands to cover it. No need. It was just a cock. Derek had one too, and he'd seen plenty.<p>

What was this? Jackson didn't want to be comfortable with this, with someone just being there and understanding his problems and life and everything. He looked at the opposite wall, spreading his arms along the edge of the tub again, his jaw tense for a few moments.

"Yeah. It's kinda nice. Y'know, not being part of something just because of a piece of paper. Although…wealthy folks? Doesn't suck, even if they aren't real." He shrugged, turning his head slightly to glance up at Derek, but just for a moment. "Oh c'mon, do you have to look at it?" Jackson looked down, frowning slightly at the length extending from his groin.

"You're going to see me naked a lot, aren't you?" It just seemed to make sense, in a way. Things like this, if it became regular-ish, turning, maybe even some training. At least in all the movies, it seemed like nudity was a critical part of being a werewolf. Again, Jackson thought he shouldn't be as okay with it as he was. And, like before, it couldn't be helped. At all.

"Why not?" he replied dryly, without emotion, then pondering the young wolf's other questionn "Could be. Don't care about that sort of stuff enough to think about it." And he really didn't. Naked people, even a room full of naked people fucking one another, was nothing to him, although he might enjoy some peoples' forms, or the mocking of others. He didn't think like a human, or respond to certain phenomena the same way either. Partly a wolf thing, partly a Derek thing.

Jackson guessed he didn't have to answer to that, since he'd seen plenty of naked guys in all his locker room days, but it was different up close like this. It was a need for decency, maybe, or some other modest human faculty that he would likely cling to the rest of his life, unless wolfhood disallowed it. The distance between their bodies began to close on him, and he looked down worryingly at the hand that was getting just a little too near. Plus, he now felt Derek's boner pressing into his back, which made him uncomfortable, and it probably showed.

Derek wondered what sort of scratch his cub's dick was up to in full, curious to find out and not thinking anything of it. His hand travelled down Jackson's torso as he pulled the boy's near-weightless body further to him in the water. He remembered Jackson wasn't like him, just before he got dangerously close to that troubling erection.

"You mind?" Oddly, Derek really did sound like he was asking something casual, like having a sip of someone's drink, or taking a biscuit from their tin. If Jackson looked, he'd find Derek even seemed just as unassuming too. Well that and moody, of course.

"It's...fuck, Derek, it's my dick! You just go around grabbing guys' dicks for the Hell of it?" Why did he sound so calm about it, too? Forget Jackson's comfort level, some boundaries just couldn't be fucked around with, new, wolfy bonds or no. "You'd rip my arm off if I tried to grab yours."

Derek's eyes remained cold and still, though an eyebrow did raise as he considered the young virgin dick he now held upright from the base, his own tight fist wrapped around it there. "Good one." and then he let go, it now dawning on Derek that permission had not been granted.

"Hey, you wanna have a look at mine, go ahead. You're already leaning on it. You don't see me shitting frisbees." That downward smirk could agitate marble statues, and yet his drawl was so unusually engaging and easy to listen to, like he was so comfortable with himself that it made all else that heard him magnetise towards the lull of a similar state of being too.

"It's just a dick kid. You humans are so uptight." Contrary to Jackson's belief once again, he was dead serious. He shrugged off the boy's ideas of bodily reservations and eyed him in a bothered fashion in the silence that came.

Jackson found that he wasn't disturbed or panicked, he was just a little shocked that Derek had actually grabbed him. Any guy for that matter. Then again, Derek was about the last guy on Earth Jackson would ever expect to be handling what he filled his jockstrap with. Not even a playful, teasing kind of grab either. The older wolf was inspecting him, holding it a little too tightly, and way too comfortably too, like it was his own to do with as he liked. Jackson continued to stare down at his erection, even after Derek had released it. As for the invitation to the length that was now firmly riding against the small of his back...well, he just didn't know how to respond to that. It was like Derek really didn't care for the concept of personal space. Or any that of any other human thing. But then, Derek wasn't human at all, and neither was Jackson any more. Not exactly. Remembering that was oddly difficult. Being a wolf in itself, made being a wolf seem more and more normal.

"Well I'm not gonna be human much longer, right?" He still looked a bit uncomfortable, though he had relaxed once the hand had left his groin. He laughed it off more flippantly than he expected to, leaning his head back against Derek again. "Never thought I'd get myself into a situation like that." Jackson realized now, though, that there was something different in the air. He didn't know what, but it was there.

"Shut up. You'd love me to jerk it off for you." Derek boastfully jibed, finding both cruel and friendly pleasure in the slightly punishing jest, nudging the pup in his back a little, hands now back to where they had been on Jackson's paler, flawless chest. You could hear the tiny bristles of Derek's coarse facial hair rustling as his face threw a set of smiles against Jackson's neck, some toothy others not, all of them direly handsome.

He poked his head around so he could catch Jackson's eyes and draw them to his, if the boy so responded. He looked daring and unpredictable at that point, though not extremely so, he just seemed like he had something fun in mind.

"You want me to?" His eyes went side to side in thought, as if even he was new to these apparent formalities, "I guess I could do that. You haven't been half as annoying as I thought you'd be for the last half hour. And it'd get rid of mine." he looked genuinely sincere in his upwardly eyed expressions of consideration, going over the pros and cons of the supposed idea in mind, not hankered by any sort of moral or sexual boundary oriented reason not to do so.

Jackson laughed at the idea, almost sure for a moment that Derek was joking with him. "Wait...I...what?" He turned his head to the side, looking at the older wolf with wide, concerned eyes. "I'm not gay, Derek." That was fairly obvious, wasn't it? It had better be.

"And I am?" Derek titled his head forward with an obvious change in bluntness to his voice, an invitation for Jackson to answer wrongly and elect himself candidate for an ass-whooping.

"No! I...not what I meant." Jackson had heard that tone of voice enough to know that it was one he wanted to hear much, much less of, considering what usually accompanied it. But it was okay, for now at least it seemed, even if he felt the tiniest sting of disappointment. He was arrogant and egotistical; he knew that people wanted him and liked being reminded of it. Derek had just been prepared to do him a favour, not for any reason of attraction, however weird that was and seemed not to be as time went on.

"Why do you even want to...I mean, why would you?" Something in him responded positively, though, but not enough that he overturned his initial reaction. On the surface, he was shocked, maybe a little appalled, definitely hesitant to say much either way.

"And then have you splooge all over my back?" Jackson frowned, not sold on this. Not entirely. Wolf bonding was weird, even if he liked most of it. He was still against the idea of Derek jerking him off, wasn't he? Pretty heavily, or so he imagined.

"No sweat. Don't say I never offered." was Derek's outlook on the matter, and with a lack of annoyance to his easy tone, maybe he hadn't wanted Jackson in ant personally enjoyable way after all.

He shook his head with a look of stupefied disbelief hanging on his face. Jackson thought the orgasm would be linked too. He was such a newb. Epic fail Jackson. "Doesn't work like that." he leaned back, ruffling one hand over Jackson's hair over and over again in varying pattern. "You should probably go home soon."

"Oh. Well I didn't know that..." A day or two ago, he didn't even know what he was turning into, let alone what it entailed, besides the obvious which you could see in pretty much any werewolf movie. Jackson was relaxed again, though, with the continued strokes to his head. It felt nice, hypnotic almost. "Yeah," though he didn't really want to leave. It was nice being here, even with the steady swing from one situation to the next.

"Maybe in a little bit." He was getting quite comfortable here in the tub, but he didn't want to admit to wanting to stay. It seemed a little weak, and he didn't do weak. "So we're training here every day? Same stuff?" Jackson did sincerely hope they didn't take too long to move onto harder stuff, push his limits even more.

"For now. And stay sharp. Never know when I might surprise you." Derek was great at sneak attacks, and that was part of Jackson's syllabus. It had to be. He had to learn how to not be taken off guard, or how to adapt when he was, in any situation. It wasn't really kidnap or torture, more like a fun game with strong educational qualities. Really.

"You smell different now." And Derek didn't mean just clean, and therefore not as wolfy any more. Until Jackson developed senses and learnt to utilize them he wouldn't be able to appreciate the smell of fear in comparison to that of none. Derek massaged the back of the rookie's neck with his thumbs, hard.

"If you don't get laid soon, maybe I'll take you out on the town. Get you some. I never miss," he promised, like any good, red-blooded big brother should, only he could definitely follow through on it.

Jackson had already been paranoid about Derek following him once, and that was when he could get glimpses of the guy, albeit vaguely and on purpose, in order to unnerve him. There wasn't a point in worrying about when Derek would surprise him, because he'd only wait until Jackson had forgotten and was going on about his day normally. He was pretty sure about that. Wasn't that just great?

"Thanks," he smirked unevenly at the promise. Lydia wouldn't be happy about that, if she ever learned about it, but Jackson was finding he didn't give a fuck about what she thought. Fine by him. And poor, stupid McCall, he was missing out, seriously. Relying on Stiles for assistance? Lame and weak. No wonder Derek had pretty much given up on him.

"What do I smell like now?" Jackson tried to sense it, sniffing obviously. He could smell more than he initially realized, though it was all jumbled, and none of it was clear in nature to him at all.

"Like something I can stand." Derek brought the mood back down to a real place, just like that, smiling widely with a sparkle in his eye that you couldn't ignore, even if his gaze did startle you for being so hollow and enthralling. "You're not scared just by being around me anymore. That's good. Fear bothers me." Derek shared without any context of colour spared.

His hands then went under the water, smoothing over the muscled flesh just underneath Jackson's shoulder blades. The boy barely moved with each touch, though they motioned to shift his weight and angles a little.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Jackson woke up, the bathwater now noticeably cooler than before once he moved his body in it.<p>

"Enjoy your nap?" Derek asked from behind his sleepy new cub. He'd fallen asleep on top of Derek, who didn't seem to mind, in fact it sounded like he'd found it endearing. Then again he was strong enough for this not to pose him any hardship. Speaking of hardship. "Still there." he smirked, eyes fixed accordingly, which was obvious even though Jackson couldn't see Derek's line of sight.

Jackson didn't know when he'd fallen asleep exactly, just that it had been an easy slide into that state. Not that Derek had helped prevent it much, with his low mellifluous voice and seemingly magical hands. He had slept quietly and deeply, more exhausted from the day's workout than he realized. Jackson stretched, pressing back into Derek, suddenly feeling much more awake thereafter.

"You let me sleep on you?" He rubbed his eyes and pushed his hair back over his scalp. But then Derek alerted him to the issue that had come up, literally, before he'd fallen asleep. "I...damn. Sorry? I'll take care of it." Jackson shrugged, still groggy enough to not care too much about it. Or maybe he just didn't care at all now. Not that the idea seemed very likely.

"Not let you. You did it. I was just here." Derek detailed how it had happened, no request was really given or accepted. "It's getting late." He reminded Jackson, remembering that he was, at least to his fictitious parents, a clean cut little poser. He probably had to be in before a certain time, unless he'd scheduled otherwise. Boring. Human.

Derek found Jackson's regret towards his own cock to be quite humorous. The boy was a funny one, and had a mixture of conflicting sides to him, which might sometimes make up for him being so human. "It's fine. Just a dick remember. But you really do need to get some action." he comfortably stated.

"Shit...what time is it now?" His phone was downstairs, with his shirt, jacket, and keys. Jackson didn't really care about being out too late, and he'd make up some excuse for his parents if they gave him trouble. He could think one up on his way home, just in case he needed it.

"Yeah, I...I'll get used to it?." Especially since they'd be spending so much time together. Jackson suspected that he would get less human with each day spent training under Derek. Maybe that was a good thing. His emotions weren't the most stable when he let himself feel them. Jackson sat up, turning his body halfway to look at Derek fully.

"Hey...thanks. And…I mean it. For...well, you could've just killed me and been down one more problem." He smiled lightly, and he finally did take a peek at his alpha. He was curious, what could he say? And Derek had handled him pretty intimately before, so why not.

"You're right. I could have." Derek smirked at Jackson in a wicked way, but gave him a wink to sweeten it, boisterously.

"Same time tomorrow then?" Jackson would try harder not to be late.

"Nope. Two minutes earlier." Derek really didn't miss a trick, and he wasn't a fan of giving leeway either, evidently. Still he looked so good you couldn't hate him for it; wet or dry.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END<strong>


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